


Moon Lilies in Bloom

by Ravenmaster



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia (mentioned), Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenmaster/pseuds/Ravenmaster
Summary: “It’s not exactly… standard, for a member of the Royal Family to be seen with someone of the same sex,” he said, his face carefully schooled into his Diplomatic Expression. “... but then again, maybe that’s something else we can change.”Zuko needs a date to the annual Love Holiday banquet, and Sokka, never afraid of controversy, offers to help him out.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 594





	Moon Lilies in Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, and exactly what you think it is, because no fandom ever has enough fake dating AUs. 
> 
> Comments and kudos water my crops, clear my skin and brighten my quarantine. Enjoy! <3

“Then let’s go together.”

  


Zuko snapped his head up, trying to look for signs of signature sarcasm or mocking, but when he looked at Sokka, all he saw was a perfectly nonchalant expression. He was hunched over his breakfast like he always was; the war had ended five years ago, but he still ate like every meal could be his last for the week. No table manners, just a constant stream of compliments to the chef and barely swallowing his food before engaging in conversation again.

  


From anyone else, Zuko would find it rude. From Sokka, it was strangely charming.

  


“Are you kidding?” he still checked, because sure, he couldn’t  _ see _ if Sokka was joking, but he had to be. He  _ had _ to be.

  


But the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe simply shook his head as he slurped up some noodles, causing some soupy droplets to fly around. “Ith’s billiant!” he babbled with his mouth full. After a quick swallow, he continued: “I mean, strategically, it’d be perfect, right? You’re the one that invented this Love Holiday, to mend some damage done by the war. I’m the ambassador of a tribe on the other side of the world, so that’s mending two whole nations! Plus, like you said, it wouldn’t do for you to go alone, and since you’ve ended things with Mai…” 

  


Zuko could  _ feel _ the whole atmosphere of the dining room change when Sokka mentioned Mai. Not that they had any other guests at the table at breakfast; he had given up on the tradition of mixing breakfast with politics the moment Sokka had weaseled his way into having breakfast with him every day. Sokka’s table manners and general uselessness on an empty stomach didn’t mix well with work, so now they ate with just the two of them every morning. But of course, there was always staff around.

  


Staff that now immediately pretended like they hadn’t heard what they had just heard. And for once, Zuko was actually grateful for that, because he knew what they were all thinking.

  


“It’s not exactly… standard, for a member of the Royal Family to be seen with someone of the same sex,” he said, his face carefully schooled into his Diplomatic Expression. “... but then again, maybe that’s something else we can change.”

  


The guards by the doorway kept their faces completely neutral, but Zuko could see Sokka’s light up even in the corner of his eye. “Now, that’s the spirit! Let’s show these people how it’s done, Water Tribe style.”

  


“Yeah.” Zuko’s gaze flicked down to his mostly untouched bowl of noodles; he suddenly felt like his stomach was too full of nerves to eat. “Right. Okay.”

  


\-----

  


See, the thing was this; Zuko didn’t mind having a male date. Actually, his great-grandfather’s decision to outlaw same-sex relationships in the Fire Nation had been one that had never made sense to him, even back in the days when he defended most of his family’s propaganda without question. Going to the annual banquet with a man at his side could actually be a great political move on his behalf, if he wanted to lead his nation into better, modern times. 

  


It was just a bit unfortunate that the idea of having Sokka as a date was far more interesting to him than any political opportunities at all.

  


“Everything okay, my Lord? You’re frowning,” Jin pointed out, as she draped the custom-made festive tunic over his shoulders. The fabric was a bit heavier than his usual outfit, heavily embroidered with several flowery patterns that Zuko always considered overkill, but his uncle had custom-ordered this tunic for him (“Nothing is lovelier than flowers, Firelord Zuko, I promise”), so he wore it anyway. It itched a little.

  


Zuko swallowed the ‘please just call me Zuko’ that was on the tip of his tongue, because he knew he couldn’t ask that. It would be inappropriate, the rest of the staff would talk. Still, the formality tasted strange coming from someone who touched his body daily. “It’s nothing. Just worried about tonight. Thank you for helping me with this, I honestly don’t understand how one tunic has to be tied in twenty different ways.”

  


Jin gave her signature not-quite-laugh. “My job is to assist you with dressing you, my Lord. It is no imposition.”

  


“Still.” Zuko shrugged one shoulder to keep the tunic properly on as Jin tied several knots on his back. “I’m a grown man, I should be able to dress myself.”

  


Jin snorted a little, before quickly composing herself again. Something his father would have fired her for, Zuko mused briefly, but he simply found it a comforting reminder that they were both human. “Not with the current fashion, my Lord. I would imagine tying a fisher’s net is less complicated.”

  


“And you’d be right,” Zuko commented off-handedly. Then, after a beat of silence, he went on: “Ambassador Sokka is accompanying me to the banquet tonight.”

  


Jin’s hands momentarily stilled. “Oh.” The surprise in her voice was genuine; she flat out forgot to include formalities.

  


“So that might be why I’m frowning,” Zuko clarified, when the thick silence didn’t let up.

  


Jin quickly started fumbling with the ties again. “You don’t want to go with him?”

  


“I do.” The answer came out too quickly, too loudly, and Zuko wanted to suck it right back in. That wish had never come true for him before, though, and neither did it this time. “It’s just… well, you know how he gets.” 

  


Jin cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said slowly, and then, with all her bravery that was somehow packed away in her short frame: “But I also know how you get around him, and I don’t see why you would have to frown over that. My Lord,” she added, almost as an afterthought. 

  


It was right then that Zuko realised that this was beyond the casual conversation that a servant was expected to make; she was tentatively addressing him as a friend.

  


And he could really, really use to talk to a friend right now.

  


“Plenty of people there are going to be shocked that I would take a man with me to the annual Love Banquet. I just don’t want them to take that out on him.” Just thinking about it made the tunic feel even heavier on his frame.

  


Jin didn’t say anything, however; she just very pointedly looked at him as she put on another layer.

  


Right. Of course. Formalities. “Jin, please just speak your mind. You’ve seen me in the nude, I think we can be honest with each other.” 

  


That earned him a small smile. “With all due respect, my Lord, it’s very kind that you’re worried about him, but I think Ambassador Sokka can handle himself.”

  


“I know that.” Everyone knew that; where fifteen year old Sokka had been somewhat awkward and lanky, he had grown another whole foot a year later, and had filled out rather nicely. With his broad frame and strong jaw, people generally knew not to underestimate him. “I just want him to be able to enjoy himself. This holiday is supposed to be fun, and my role in them generally is a whole lot more complicated.”

  


Jin shrugged. “It’s a banquet, my Lord. I’ve never seen him not enjoy food, let alone in your company.” And with that notion, she fastened the final ties, gave him a polite, though personal pet on the arm, and offered him a smile. “Good luck today.”

  


Despite his nerves, Zuko found himself smiling back. “Thank you, Jin. You’re dismissed. Enjoy yourself tonight.”

  


With a final bow, Jin left the room. “You too, my Lord.”

  


And by Agni, Zuko had a gut feeling that enjoying himself tonight might just be the problem.

  


\-----

  


Iroh was the first to arrive later that morning, carrying his own travel bag, his face immediately lighting up when he saw Zuko’s outfit. “Oh! I thought that after your complaints last year you would have opted to wear something else, but I’m so glad you didn’t. Look at those flowers,” he exclaimed, forgoing the formal greetings altogether and immediately taking his nephew in his arms.

  


“Nice to see you too, Uncle,” Zuko replied dryly.

  


“Let an old man enjoy his embroidered moon lilies.” Iroh smiled warmly at him, though, and after one more pat on the shoulder, he put his hands behind his back again. “It’s very good to see you, Firelord Zuko.”

  


That still sounded strange out of his mouth. “You know you don’t have to address me like that.”

  


“But I want to,” Iroh shrugged, “and it’s true. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to speak to the head chef before I settle in - I had this terrible nightmare that we were going to run out of oyster crab cakes halfway through the meal, and I haven’t been able to think of anything else since.” And with that, he was off, with a determination in his eyes not quite unlike what Zuko had seen in his face-off with General Zhao, all those years ago. 

  


For a moment, he just stood there, a little out of his depth on what to do now (after all, his plan had been to help his uncle settle in, perhaps offer him some tea and be completely bulldozed by Iroh in his haste to make it himself instead). Katara, Aang and Toph weren’t expected to arrive for another hour, he’d revised and rewritten his speech for tonight so many times that the words had started to bleed together in his head, he had already put his ridiculous flower costume on, and -

  


“It’s the Flowerlord!” Sokka’s voice was beyond delighted, and clearly recognizable, even though he was all the way at the other side of the hallway. He hadn’t changed yet, but for some inexplicable reason, his hair was untied and brushed against his jaw as he walked over, a big grin on his expression. “You know, every year you complain about it, but you actually look pretty great.”

  


Zuko’s face flared up, so he looked away. “Yeah, right.”

  


“No, I mean it!” Sokka casually flung an arm across his shoulders, pulling him close as they started to walk. He had no idea where they were going yet, but knowing Sokka, it would most likely be his personal quarters again. “The golden thread really brings out your eyes.”

  


Damn him and his pale complexion. “Thanks, I guess.”

  


“You’re very welcome,” Sokka said lightly, like he hadn’t just personally wrecked the Firelord right where he stood. “So I think we need to talk strategy, right?”

  


Zuko’s mind sluggishly processed his words. “Strategy for what?”

  


“Tonight!” Sokka almost looked a little offended. “Us, going to the banquet together? Like, how are we going to present ourselves? Should we keep it casual, just make it a political stance? Or really sell it? Are you going to be the revolutionary Firelord who has a male paramour?”

  


For a moment, Zuko simply stood there, not knowing what to say at all. He hadn’t even thought about  _ that _ . It was one thing to have Sokka at his side as he made his big speech as a clinical, political statement, but the word  _ paramour _ painted a whole other picture. 

  


“Of course you don’t have to be,” Sokka quickly backtracked, when he realized that Zuko wasn’t going to reply, “especially if it makes you uncomfortable, but it  _ would _ really drive the point -”

  


“Let’s do it.” The words were out of Zuko’s mouth before he could stop himself, before his brain could kick in and tell him  _ hey, maybe don’t _ . There were about a million reasons why it would be very unwise to actually convince the entire guest list that the new Firelord, whose reputation had been burnt to the ground from the start, was interested in men. If he wanted to make a statement, it’d be a lot more strategically wise to play it safe.

  


Unfortunately, Zuko never played it safe. And, judging from the way Sokka’s face lit up, he hadn’t grown out of it yet either.

  


“Perfect,” he beamed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  


\-----

  


‘Fun’ wasn’t the way Zuko would have described it. ‘Terrifying’ was a better word, perhaps; by the time he’d stepped away from the podium after his big speech, he was shaking like a leaf, and his throat felt dry.

  


Because during the full ten minutes that he’d been speaking, he’d  _ felt _ everyone’s gaze fixed on Sokka behind him.

  


Just a few beats after he’d uttered his last hopeful word, his last reconciling sentence about all the nations coming together on this day, he felt a large hand press lightly against his lower back. “You did great,” Sokka told him quietly. His handprint felt like it burnt right through the fabric of his robes.    
  
“They’re quite taken with you,” Zuko replied, the moment they were properly out of earshot of the officials that were around. The speech was usually a rather intimate event; only the world leaders and a selection of their councilmen were invited, since Zuko’s voice only carried so far. An official stenographer was appointed to take notes of it and print it for the general public, so technically it was addressed to the whole world, but it absolutely didn’t feel that way. 

  


Especially not because Zuko could still see every single gaze glued to Sokka’s figure behind him, openly gaping at him.

  


But Sokka himself didn’t seem nervous at all. “Can you blame them? I look good in these clothes.”

  


There was a very short intermission before everyone was expected at the banquet, where far more people were expected to be; a certain part was reserved for the same political figures that had been present for the speech, and that part was catered for by the palace itself. It spread all through the capital, however; any person nearby was cordially invited to join them at the tables nearby, and to bring their own food. In years past, it had been one of the most uniting events in the Fire Nation; most families would bring an overflow of food, and invite anyone they saw on the street to join them. People put aside their differences and simply celebrated.

  


Zuko just prayed that this year would be no different.

  


They walked through the hallway together, finally out of sight of all those gawking politicians, when Sokka suddenly stopped them. “Just checking in, are you still okay with our plan?”   
  
It took Zuko a moment to step out of his own little bubble of worry and look at Sokka. He immediately regretted it, though, because Sokka was right; he did look good like this. His hair was pulled back into his usual wolf tail, but his clothes were way different. A deep red, like the Fire Nation’s royal clothes usually were, but still light and airy, sleeveless as he always wore around this climate. But, to accentuate his own tribe, he still wore white arm wraps - but embroidered with flowers, this time, a delicate gold against the stark white. The same went for the white collar necklace he wore around his neck.

  


He was beautiful, and Zuko was fucked.

  


“Uh,” he said eloquently, his gaze still very much fixed on the way his skin contrasted with the white collar, how his piercing blue eyes were complemented by the color of his clothes. “Sorry?”

  


Amusement played with the corners of Sokka’s mouth. “The plan? You know, me being your  _ lover _ in public,” he reminded him, stressing the word  _ lover _ in a way that made Zuko’s spine tingle a little. “Because you looked a little stressed when all those old polar dogs were gaping at us. Are we still good to go?”

  


Right. The Plan. “Of course,” Zuko said immediately, without thinking, because only a wise person would think before agreeing to such a thing - and time and time again, Zuko was reminded that he was very unwise around Sokka. 

  


Not that he noticed. Sokka just beamed at Zuko for a moment, the classic grin that he was used to, before his expression morphed into something far more ridiculously seductive. Without warning, he took Zuko’s hand, and pressed his warm lips against the sensitive inside of his wrist. 

  


“Let’s go, then,” he simply said, before pulling Zuko along towards the entrance of the palace. 

  


Zuko only remembered how words worked once the sunlight hit his eyes again.

  


\-----

  


Of course,  _ of course _ Sokka managed to shock the whole nation only ten minutes into the banquet. In hindsight, Zuko really should’ve expected it. 

  


It started off fairly normal; Zuko sat at the center of the long table in front of the palace, with Sokka on his right side, and Aang on his left. The square in front of the palace was already filled with people, the air smelled of spicy foods and barbecues on the outskirts. It was familiar, it was good. Aang had stood up, given a short speech about how happy he was to be able to have all nations dine together as one. Zuko’s role in this was simple; all he had to do was stand up and clink glasses with him at the end, and the feast would commence.

  


Except that right before that happened, Sokka suddenly stood up, causing a ripple of confused noises to go through the crowd.

  


“And to add to that,” he started, in a loud, clear voice, “I want to toast to Firelord Zuko, who is far too humble to ever take credit for his role in the peace we enjoy today, but whose efforts should not be overlooked. Look at the people who dine with you today, and imagine the faces that would not have been here without this man. The Avatar is not the only person who brought us peace.”

  


Zuko’s heart was hammering, and his glass was already halfway to touching Aang’s, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Sokka. He looked just as determined now as he did whenever a discussion in his throne room got heated, whenever he refused to back down in a debate. But right at that moment, he turned to Zuko, and his whole face changed. Softened. Warmed up.

  


“Cheers,” he said, and reached over with his glass. Zuko followed his motions without looking away; three glasses clinked together.

  


And right then, Sokka placed his arm around Zuko’s waist, and kissed him.

  


Zuko nearly dropped his glass right then and there. He certainly forgot everything else around him; in one brief moment, Sokka had personally canceled out the noise of the crowd, the mere idea of other people being around. It was just a gentle, warm press of lips against his own, a hot gush of air where he exhaled through his nose, and the slightest tingling feeling when his lips dragged against Zuko’s own when he pulled back. 

  


Zuko’s whole stomach felt like there were an endless amount of ember flies swarming around in it. 

  


For a good few beats, the whole world appeared to be quiet, just a silent bubble in which Sokka locked eyes with him and had the  _ audacity _ to look somewhat flushed, right up to the moment where - 

  


“Cheers!” repeated Aang, piercing through the thick blanket of shocked silence in the crowd. “Let’s eat!”

  


And thus, the world came back into motion. People clapped and cheered as if nothing had happened, or at least as if everyone had collectively decided that they were going to pretend that was the case. Soon the sound of clinking glasses and talking filled the palace square again, and slowly, Zuko remembered how to breathe. He was fairly certain his face was the same shade as his tunic.

  


Even if he could still feel the impression of Sokka’s lips on his. He quickly took a big gulp of wine, and sat down again. 

  


“Sooo,” came a drawled out voice from slightly further on the table. “How come I haven’t heard of this before, fire boy?” Toph was grinning like a catfox who got the cream.

  


But Katara interrupted before Zuko had the time to find his words. “I think that question counts even more for me. How long has this been going on?”

  


“I-” Zuko stammered.

  


“Officially? One day,” Sokka said confidently. “I would’ve written to you before, but you’re right at the premiere.”

  


_ And it’s not real, _ Zuko wanted to clarify, but before he could, Aang slapped his shoulder. “Well, I for one am so happy to see you’ve found each other! And to be so open about it, I think it sets a great example. I’m very happy for you.”   
  
“Absolutely,” Katara agreed, although her expression was still a little dumbstruck. “I can’t say I was expecting it, but… congratulations, truly.”

  


For a moment, Zuko shot Sokka a look that said ‘shouldn’t we be correcting them?’, but Sokka just shrugged, and grinned as if to say ‘I don’t know, this might be fun’. So Zuko just turned around again, tried not to look too caught off-guard, and just said: “Thanks.”

  


Toph took a large drink of her wine. “So which one of you is on top and which one is on the bottom?” she asked, and was immediately smacked by Suki, who’d taken the seat next to her. This only made her laugh more, and she just slapped her friend right back.

  


“That’s so rude to ask!” Suki hissed.

  


“And I really don’t want to know,” Katara agreed. 

  


“But I do,” Toph pressed on. “Oh, also - if one of you finishes, does that mean that the whole sex is over, or -”

  


But Suki clasped her hand over Toph’s mouth and shut her up. “Toph, you’re not twelve anymore, at some point you need to learn some ma- okay, you can lick my hand whatever you want, I don’t ca- ow!”

  


She pulled her hand back as if she’d been bitten, and judging from Toph’s self-satisfied look, she probably had been. Right when she opened her mouth again to speak, however, Sokka’s endless appetite saved the day.

  


“The food is here!” he announced, with the excitement of a toddler, as the waiters came over with whole trays with dishes, serving it in between the bouquets of flowers on the table. Everyone’s focus shifted on passing the food around at that point, all the confusion and questions forgotten. They were just all friends again, enjoying a meal, and Zuko could feel a warmth blooming in his chest that was definitely fondness.

  


\-----

  


The sun set slowly at this time of year, coloring the skies orange and red for almost an hour before the darkness descended. Stomachs were filled, plates abandoned, but the wine still flowed like water, and people had taken it upon themselves to switch seats, and find other conversational partners. Somewhere at the back of the square, where clearly some talented families were seated, music had begun to sound already.

  


“It appears congratulations are in order,” Iroh said warmly to Zuko, as he took residence upon Suki’s now-abandoned seat, who’d moved back to sit with the other Kyoshi Warriors. Toph’s face perked up at the sound of his voice, and she reached over until she could squeeze his shoulder.

  


“Thank you,” Zuko simply replied, because it wasn’t as if he could now suddenly explain that this wasn’t real, after all. Not when he’d just let all his friends believe in it. 

  


“Did you have any idea Zuko swung that way?” Toph asked, as she took her own glass again and took an indelicately big gulp. “It surprises me less than Sokka, but still.”

  


Zuko had no idea whether he was offended or impressed that he was apparently simple to read, in that sense. Iroh just laughed. 

  


“I’ve found that in life it is best never to make assumptions about love,” he spoke, “or you might miss out on something wonderful.”

  


Zuko felt Sokka’s hand on his back, and felt him scoot closer, until their bodies were lightly touching. “Exactly! If I’d only limited myself to girls, then I would’ve missed out on the prettiest person of them all. What kind of girl can compete with a Flowerlord?”

  


Seemed like Sokka could still not pass up the opportunity to tease him. Zuko elbowed him in his ribs, but lightly. “Oh, shut up.”

  


“Make me,” Sokka challenged, and Zuko’s stomach flipped at the implications, but before the tension of the subtext could alter the playful atmosphere to something more heavy, he leaned in and kissed his cheek like it was nothing.

  


Why did he have to have such stupidly soft lips?

  


“It wasn’t exactly something one talked about in the Fire Nation,” Zuko answered Toph’s question, trying very hard not to give Sokka the satisfaction of flustering him this time. “But since I already refused to talk about women with Uncle, I gave him very few chances to consider this.”

  


Iroh laughed again. “Do you usually discuss your boyfriends with your parents?” he asked her.

  


“Fuck no,” Toph immediately said. “I think they would both drop dead out of shock if they knew what I was up to.”

  


Zuko pulled a face; he very much preferred to pretend that Toph, at the age of seventeen, wasn’t up to anything, but her face told a different story altogether that he did  _ not _ want to hear about. He was just trying to find a different topic, when Sokka saved him. 

  


“So how’s the teashop?” he asked innocently, but behind the surface of the table, Zuko felt a gentle squeeze to his knee.

  


Iroh’s face lit up, and launched into a monologue about the delicate blossom he’d discovered between the two walls of Ba Sing Se, and what sort of teas he could brew with them. 

  


Sokka didn’t remove his hand for the rest of the conversation.

  


\-----

  


“I don’t know how to dance,” Zuko protested. He was unsteady enough on his feet as it was, but throughout the evening, he was fairly sure he’d had the equivalent of an entire bottle of wine, and he already felt himself swaying a little as Sokka pulled him to the little clearing between the tables, where musicians were already playing a cheerful tune. “I’ll look ridiculous.”

  


But Sokka had had at least as much wine as he had, and Zuko knew that tipsy Sokka was even more stubborn than sober Sokka. “It’s not a real party until we’ve danced!” he countered, his hand firmly clasped around Zuko’s wrist. People automatically made space for the Firelord, but with a quick ‘please, don’t mind me’ gesture, they cautiously returned to their previous dancing, even if they gave them more than plenty of space. 

  


Zuko wasn’t sure whether that was out of respect, or the correct instinct that he might accidentally kick them with his clumsy feet. 

  


“Just follow my lead.” That was all the warning he got before Sokka grabbed his hands and  _ danced _ . His feet were jumping up and down, his arms were pulling and pushing at Zuko’s to force him to move too, and his face was just the picture of enthusiasm. Honestly, it was a charming look.

  


So charming, that it took Zuko a few moments to realize that  _ Sokka couldn’t dance either. _

  


He was entirely off-rhythm, his movements had no grace to them, but the sheer confidence he radiated prevented everyone else from realizing that he clearly had no idea what he was doing. He even lifted his arm at one point to twirl Zuko underneath it, which he clumsily did, even though the song didn’t ask for such a move at all. Still, he yelled out a little, enthusiastic “whooh!”, and Zuko cracked; he burst into laughter.

  


“That’s more like it!” Sokka beamed, completely unashamed, with a whine blush and several strands of hair bouncing loosely around his face, where all the jumping had loosened up his wolf tail a little. “Blow off some steam! It’s a party!”

  


Encouraged, and far less embarrassed now that he knew that Sokka had all the attention from the crowd, Zuko shuffled his feet a little, and made some gestures with his hands on the beat of the music. Sokka looked ecstatic. 

  


“Yes! Exactly!” 

  


In the periphery of his vision, Zuko noticed how guards lit up the lanterns around the square, dotting the party with little bubbles of warm light. He couldn’t see Sokka properly like this, and yet better than ever; every smile, every movement, every sound of his voice registered in his mind like the most important memory he’d ever make. 

  


Eventually, the music slowed down. He had no idea when Aang and Katara had made their way to the unofficial dancefloor, but suddenly, he saw them slowly dancing together in the light of the lanterns, with a look on their faces that was far more intimate than the festivities around them. They moved gracefully, though; Aang really did look as if he barely touched the ground at all, and Katara followed his lead with an easy grace, the flexibility of a water bender.    
  
Sokka had noticed them too, and smiled fondly. “I know I give him shit sometimes, but they really do look happy, don’t they?” he mused.

  


Zuko found himself, as bravely as he’d ever been, reaching out to take his hand. “Yeah, they do.”

  


There was a beat of silence, after which Sokka slowly looked down at their joined hands. Then, he looked up again; Zuko had expected to see that patented Sokka Grin, but instead, he just looked surprised. 

  


“Do you want to dance?” he asked quietly. Gently.

  


The ember flies were back in full force.  _ Yes _ , he wanted to say,  _ absolutely _ , but then he looked at the crowd around him, and remembered that even in the moments that he only had eyes for Sokka, the rest of the world was still there.   
  
“Not here,” he said instead, and without letting go of his hand, he started to lead Sokka through the crowd, to the outskirts of the square, right behind the house of one of the more prominent, rich families of the city. The music sounded a lot softer here, but there was no one here. A few golden lanterns lit the place; they were alone with their shadows. 

  


There was a small moment of silence in which Zuko tried to find the guts to ask him again. The context was different, after all; if they’d danced in front of everyone, it would have been to keep up the act. Right here, there was no one to perform for. 

  


If they danced here, it would be real.

  


But Sokka seemed unphased. “You promised me a dance,” he reminded him, and it was all that was necessary for Zuko to place a hand on his waist, and clasp the other in Sokka’s. Sokka copied his movements, and then gently pulled him a little closer. They didn’t really dance yet; all they did was rock slightly to the cadans of the music. 

  


“Can I tell you a secret?” Sokka eventually said, quietly. Neither of them made eye contact, but they stubbornly looked at each other’s shoulders. It was probably the most nervous Zuko had ever been in his life.

  


When he swallowed, his throat was so dry, he could hear it click. “Of course.”

  


Sokka hesitated for a beat, then leaned in a little bit to whisper: “I don’t know how to dance.”

  


And with that, Zuko’s nerves disappeared again, all came flying out when he laughed softly. “It’s not a big secret,” he whispered back.

  


Sokka laughed along, just as quietly. Their rocking continued, just closer to one another.

  


There were a few beats of silence, before Zuko heard himself say: “Can I tell you a secret, then?”

  


Sokka mhm’ed, and oh so subtly moved his hand a little further along Zuko’s waist, pulling him in closer.

  


Zuko had no idea what he was going to say, though; he only knew that he wanted to say  _ something _ . So, completely unfiltered, he whispered: “You’re quite a good kisser.”

  


Now, Sokka did make eye contact for a moment, and it felt sharp and intense and  _ good _ . After the initial surprise, a small smile played around his lips. “That was nothing. Wanna try out the real deal?”

  


Zuko’s breath got stuck in his throat for a moment, and it vaguely registered that this was the sort of question he had to  _ think _ about before answering. Except, that voice was so distant and so soft, he couldn’t be bothered to listen. “Yes.”

  


He’d expected Sokka to pull him in again before he could even process what he’d just said, but that wasn’t the case at all. Instead, Sokka gently led their joined hands to his neck, placed Zuko’s hand there, and used his now free hand to cradle the side of Zuko’s face, right underneath the scar. His fingertips trailed oh so lightly over his skin, almost to the point where it became ticklish, except that it never did; all they did was leave a tingling trail of fire in their wake, and speed up Zuko’s heartbeat like he was enchanted somehow. Zuko’s lips parted to take a shuddering breath.

  


And that was when he leaned in, his movements still slow, but purposeful this time. It immediately felt different; their lips locked differently,  _ better _ , and he could feel the slight pressure where Sokka suckled oh so lightly on his bottom lip. It was warm, slightly wet, and the moment the contact between their lips broke, Sokka kissed him again, and again, and again. 

  


It took maybe five seconds before Zuko’s thoughts kicked in again, and he started to kiss him back just as gently, without any hurry. His hand found the back of Sokka’s head on instinct and his thumb brushed up and down the short hairs there, causing Sokka’s breath to come out just a pinch shakier than before. Encouraged, Zuko sucked a little harder on his bottom lip; a soft noise came from Sokka’s chest.

  


The atmosphere changed a little. Sokka tilted his head and opened his mouth further, the tip of his tongue darting out against sensitive skin for just a moment, just a tease. Zuko found himself replying in kind, easily carried away by the heat of Sokka’s mouth, the tingling feeling he left on his lips, and the completely overwhelming sense of smelling him everywhere, tasting him everywhere, feeling him everywhere. 

  


Maybe that was why he heard himself make a somewhat helpless noise when Sokka pulled back - his thoughts were all occupied with  _ Sokkasokkasokkasokka _ , and he never wanted to think anything else again. There was a heat deep down in his belly that warmed him up inside, and everywhere Sokka touched him, it felt like he was lit up.

  


It was only when he felt Sokka’s thumb brush over his cheekbone, and felt the difference in temperature, that he realized he was blushing. 

  


“That’s the real deal,” Sokka said softly, and his voice sounded deeper than before, more breathless. He was still so close, that Zuko could feel every breath on his face. 

  


“That’s a pretty good deal,” he replied honestly. “That’s… wow.” 

  


There was a short beat of silence, after which Sokka brushed his nose oh so carefully against Zuko’s, pressing their foreheads together. “Wow yourself,” he replied.

  


They stood there like that for another few peaceful moments, Zuko had no idea how long, until he could see the sparkling colors of fireworks in the ink black sky; the official ending of the banquet. Technically, he was no longer expected to attend. 

  


Technically, Sokka was no longer expected to be his date.

  


Sokka looked up now, too; then looked at Zuko with a resigned look. “Well, it was my pleasure to be your boyfriend for a day,” he started, but that look - a look that Sokka was so terrible at hiding, a look that Zuko had seen every time that they’d run out of his favorite food, or every time Zuko had to cancel on him because of work, every time that Sokka had quietly accepted that this wasn’t his lucky day -

  


\- that look had fed the flame of hope in his chest to a roaring fire, and Zuko would be a truly terrible Firelord if he never dared to be brave once. So he cradled Sokka’s face, like Sokka had done before, ignored his look of surprise, and said: “please just kiss me again.”

  


And under the glorious, bursting lights of the fireworks, ushering in a new, better era, Sokka did.


End file.
